Death and Dying

When i die, wrap my body in canvas and paint it yellow. Let the ones i love (the very few) ignite the turpentine. As the color bleeds to the ground, let all that i was, and all the ways this world has affected me, burn too. Let the earth take me back and heal me like it always has. Please plant wild daisies on the place i last lay, and visit me often. You can tell me your secrets, your dreams, your triumphs, and troubles. I will always listen.

The hot water rolled down my back slowly as I arched forward to my knees. I held myself for a while; my toes gripping the bathtub floor. I waited for reality to sink in. I listened to the water accompany my shallow breaths. My oil stained hands clenched my knees. I remembered how to hold myself together. I remembered the raw loneliness in my chest. I remembered the dark insides of my mind. I remembered how the turpentine rolled down the canvas slowly, taking pieces of paint (thick outer skin) with it. The naked canvas glistened beneath. And now my body separated from my mind much the same, as the hot water rolled down my back slowly. I cursed my name.

My eyes will sting all day. My stomach will hollow out and ache. My head will pound pound pound. The blood in my body will beat through my veins. My thoughts stay low for the most part. And then someone will mention your name. Then my eyes begin to cry, and my stomach starts to reach for my throat, and my blood rushes to my head and pounds pounds pounds; louder than before.

I begged you not to turn on the light. But you did anyways.